Please Don't Leave Me
by Miss Lavender Sky
Summary: This is a Chuck/Blair song-fic to P!nk's "Please Don't Leave Me." After all their fighting, can the two of them make it right?


**A/N: Hey, so I haven't done one of these in ages, and I've never done a Gossip Girl one before, so be nice? I don't own the show or the song [P!nk]. Hope you enjoy! **

"I don't know if I could yell any louder.

How many times have I kicked you out of here?

Or said something insulting?

I can be so mean when I wanna be.

I am capable of really anything.

I can cut you into pieces.

But my heart is broken.

Please don't leave me.

Please don't leave me.

I always say how I don't need you,

But it's always gonna come right back to this.

Please don't leave me.

How did I become so obnoxious?

What is it with you that makes me act like this?

I've never been this nasty.

Can't you tell that this is all just a contest?

The one that wins will be the one that hits the hardest.

But baby, I don't mean it.

I mean it.

I promise.

Please don't leave me.

Please don't leave me.

I always say how I don't need you,

But it's always gonna come right back to this.

Please don't leave me."

-"Please Don't Leave Me," Pink

* * *

Blair fell back on her bed, tears in her eyes.

Again. Again and again.

She heard his footsteps as he stormed down the hallway, heard the door slam as he closed it, heard the car drive away as he left her once again.

Why did he always leave? He always left.

Why did he always yell? He always yelled.

Why did he always make her cry? He always made her cry.

Why did he never say it? He never said "I love you."

She slumped back on her bed. She knew why.

She always treated him horribly, whenever they weren't perfectly blissful, and sometimes even then. She would call him names, and she would yell at him, and she would try and change him, and she would try and make him be who he wasn't.

No wonder he left her. Again.

Her mom walked in, looking worried. "Blair, I just saw Chuck. He looked awfully upset. Did you two have another fight?"

The way her mother said it, like it was so common for the two of them to fight, nearly killed her. "Mom, I want to go visit Daddy and Roman," she said. "Just for a week. I need it."

Her mother nodded. "I'll have the driver come around and he'll take you to the airport. He'll be ready in ten minutes."

Blair nodded. She knew she was running away, but sometimes that's what it took.

* * *

Chuck stared at the ceiling of the limo, barely comforted by the fact that he was getting away. He'd told his driver to stop by the house, so he could grab a few things. He was going to his father's resort in Italy for a month or so, where he could stop hurting her. She'd be hurt by his leaving, but she'd be better off without him.

He yelled, he left, he'd made her cry, but for all that trouble, he would never give her what she really wanted.

She wanted a real boyfriend, a Nate-like man who would give in to whatever she wanted, behave how she wanted, and said what she wanted.

But he would never be that guy. He couldn't be. How could he? He was Chuck Bass.

Sure, she'd done her fair share to contribute to the mess they were in right now. She'd yelled, she'd lied, she'd left him when he came back to her.

But he would never hold it against her, because he knew that her mistakes would never measure up to his.

Of all the many things he'd done to her, he'd broken her heart so many times. He'd gotten her to trust him, to forgive him, lull her into thinking he would catch her, and then he would let her fall. Time and time again.

It was a pattern, one that he couldn't seem to break. And he hated himself. He couldn't stand to see the way he had left her- again. Every time he knew she would fall, every time he knew she would cry and need him the most, he would leave, because he couldn't handle picking up the pieces. He refused to wait around to see what mess he'd created.

No wonder she hated him. Again.

* * *

Blair curled up in the seat of the limo as it rolled along to the airport. This was her fault- again. She had been the one who'd caused the fight in the first place, trying to be manipulative, trying to coerce him into doing what she wanted.

* * *

"_Sweetie, have you heard about Julia and Jonathan?" Blair said excitedly, right as he had walked into the room. She was surveying a half dozen dresses laid out around the room._

"_No, what?" Chuck asked, after giving her a quick kiss._

"_They're engaged," Blair said, smiling._

* * *

He had known exactly what she wanted. Why hadn't he just let her finish and acted like he cared? Why couldn't he have made the effort to not make her work so hard to say what she wanted from him?

He snatched his things from the house and threw him into the car, furious with himself for leaving again.

* * *

"_And?" Chuck answered, surveying one of her dresses._

"_And, well," Blair said, a bit flustered. "I just think it's nice, you know, such a lovely public announcement of their _love_ for each other."_

* * *

Why did she have to say that? He would've gotten the hint sooner or later; she didn't have to drive it into his head until he got upset. She was sick of herself for pushing the subject too far with him and for making him so upset over it.

* * *

"_Their love?" Chuck scoffed. "Please, Julia and Jonathan don't love each other."_

"_What do you mean?" Blair asked. "Of course they do!"_

"_No, they don't," said Chuck. "Their parents are just pushing them together."_

"_Chuck, don't tell me you haven't seen the way they look at each other. They do love each other," she replied._

"_I doubt it; love is such a fleeting thing. It doesn't really last, if it even does exist at all."_

_

* * *

  
_

He shouldn't have looked up at her after he'd said that. She looked as if she'd been slapped. Her face went pale, and her eyes were filling up with tears. He couldn't believe he had been such an idiot; he knew what he was saying. He just wanted her to know that he wasn't ready for that right now. But he had taken it much too far.

* * *

"_You don't believe in love?" Blair asked, blinking back tears. "You don't think it's real?"_

_Chuck shrugged. Even at the time, he knew he was messing up everything again, but he couldn't help it. It was like an involuntary decision. "Not really. I mean, there's always a separate motive behind things. People marry for money, for power, to get away from parents, not for love. Love doesn't serve a purpose."_

_Blair was shaking her head. "Then why are we together? What's the purpose behind our relationship?" she yelled._

* * *

She shouldn't have yelled. He would've come around eventually, and she could have talked him into thinking about everything, calmly and rationally. That was what she did; that was what she helped him do. But she had gone out of control and started yelling at him.

* * *

"_I don't know!" Chuck yelled back, frustrated with himself. And he couldn't stand hearing the words he said next: "It was just a little fun for me, something to keep me occupied."_

_Blair slightly sank against the headboard of her bed, looking deflated._

_He'd let her fall again._

* * *

Chuck shuddered as Blair's face floated in his mind. Her broken, crumpled face was the last thing he saw before he had turned around and left her again, not daring to look behind him and see what mess he'd left this time.

But he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't leave it like this. It was too much this time.

* * *

Blair couldn't stand it. The pattern that they followed so closely- fight, yell, scream, leave, cry. Over and over again. It was too much. She needed to fix this. She needed to make things right.

* * *

Chuck was out of the limo before the car had even stopped. He knocked on the door, waiting for Dorota to open the door, anxious and nervous.

When she finally did, he was unnerved by the look she gave him. The usually timid woman was glaring at him. "What do you want?" she asked.

"I need to see Blair," he said, knowing he sounded desperate. But he was.

"You cannot see Miss Blair," Dorota replied.

"I have to!" Chuck said. "I know she's upset with me, but I have to talk to her!" he demanded. He wasn't used to having to plead for something he wanted.

"You cannot see Miss Blair, because Miss Blair is gone for visiting her father," the woman said harshly.

"She's going to France?" he asked incredulously.

Dorota nodded. He turned away and walked back to the limo.

So this was it? He'd actually driven her to running away from him?

Well, not this time. This time he would bring her back, and he would make it alright.

* * *

**R U and C alright? He just left. He said he's going to Italy. –S**

Blair grimaced. This was her fault. She'd chased him off again. And not even chased him home or to the Hampton house. No, she had managed to chase him onto another continent.

But not for good. She wouldn't let it be for good. This was too good, he was too good, for her to leave him alone without giving it a try.

She quickly got out of the limo as it pulled up to helicopter pad. The driver was putting all her things in the back as she went up front to go sit beside the pilot.

"There's been a change of plans," she nearly yelled over the roar of the helicopter and the wind. "We're going to Italy."

"But Eleanor said the flight was to France," said the pilot.

"Well, it's not," Blair said stiffly. "Like I said, the plans have changed. We're going to Italy." She sank into her seat, anxious. "And we need to get there fast."

"Alright then," said the pilot, sighing. "Italy it is."

* * *

As Chuck pulled up to the hangar, he contemplated exactly what he would say to her. Did he have anything to say to her?

Yes, he decided, he did. He just didn't know how to say it.

Well, he just had to figure it out was all. As he got on the plane, he thought about what exactly he needed to tell her.

He was sorry, first of all. He hadn't meant to do it- any of it. It was like an involuntary thing, and he wasn't sure why. No, that sounded like an excuse. He wasn't trying to excuse himself, he was just trying to make things better…

What else? It won't happen again? That sounded too mundane and insincere. And besides, he couldn't guarantee that it wouldn't happen again. He could try, but he couldn't promise.

And there was one other thing. One other thing he needed to say…

* * *

Blair sat on the bed. He wasn't here. Serena had been wrong. She had no idea where he was now.

She had half-run up the steps to the house, desperate to talk to him before he decided that he was done with her. She scrambled down the path, not caring if the help saw her look like an idiot or not. They didn't matter right now.

She had banged on the door so loudly that she was sure she had startled the servants inside, but that didn't matter.

The maid who answered the door had looked at her cautiously.

"Is Chuck here?" Blair had asked desperately.

"No," the woman had slowly, as if Blair was insane. "He only comes here during the summers."

"So, he's really- he's not here?" Blair had asked. "He's just…not here?"

"No," the woman had replied. "Do you want me to pass a message along to him?"

"No," Blair had told her, as she felt her heart sinking, sinking somewhere far, far away. "No, just- never mind."

She had turned and ran.

* * *

"You must be Mister Chuck!" said the man who opened the door.

Chuck looked at him. This must be Roman. The man was overly enthusiastic and had proceeded to hug Chuck when he asked to see Blair.

"Yes," he said. "I'm Chuck. Is Blair here?"

"No," said Roman, looking confused. "Isn't she with you? Miss Eleanor called to say she was coming…"

"No," said Chuck, sighing deeply. "She isn't with me." Not wanting the man to think something was terribly wrong, he added, "I'm sure she'll be here soon. Thank you for your time."

He walked back to the limo. As much as he wanted to convince the man there was nothing wrong, there was something wrong. And it was too much for him to take.

* * *

Blair's flight home had landed her in London, at the airport, waiting for the next flight. Her helicopter apparently could not make the flight. She was jittery about flying commercial, but she couldn't even focus on it, she was too worried about Chuck.

_I've got to talk to him. I've got to find him._

She'd tried his phone eight times that day, and had already sent him half a dozen texts. Maybe he was just done with her.

She couldn't stand to think it, but maybe it was true. She felt a tear slip down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away.

* * *

Chuck got out of the plane. He hated layovers, but he needed to stop here in order to get to his helicopter. It's primary stops were New York and London, so he found himself in London, waiting for it to arrive from New York.

He walked over to the café, hoping to catch a decent cup of coffee. He'd been up since the night before, and he was so scatterbrained he'd left his phone back at his apartment. He needed to get home and find Blair and talk to her and tell her…everything.

* * *

Blair looked up from her cup of coffee to see a familiar face. As soon as she saw him, he saw her. He made it over to her in three short strides.

"Blair, I need to talk to you," Chuck said.

"No, I do," she replied. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry for fighting with you, and yelling, and being manipulative, and talking about Julia and Jonathan like that, and they don't even matter, but I'm sorry for pressuring you. And I'm happy with you, and I'm sorry for trying to make us into something else," she said. "I'm sorry."

"No," he said firmly, and it made her think that he had already made up his mind, that he really was finished with her. But then he continued. "_I'm_ sorry," he said, at last, and she felt her heart beat regularly again. "I'm sorry for hurting you and for letting you down. I'm sorry for yelling and keeping you from having what you really want. I was scared," he said finally, and it occurred to her that this was the most honest he'd ever been with her. "I was scared to be what you wanted me to be, because I was scared I would never be good enough. But I- I love you," he said. "And I need you."

Blair felt a tear slip down her cheek again, but now it was for a completely different reason. "I love you too," she said softly.

He leaned down to kiss her, and her heart exploded. She knew things would never be bad again. Things might be rough every once in a while- it was them, after all- but they would never be bad. They would always find a way to work through the hard stuff, because they could do it. She knew they could.

"Now," he said smiling. "Let's get going. My helicopter is about to take off."

"Good," she said, returning his smile. "I hate flying commercial."

He grinned at her, and kissed her again, and they walked, hand in hand, to the gate.


End file.
